Bidisha Satpathy
January is cold.
“But January is for new things,” the colleague hands me a disposable bowl of chocolate-flavoured Maggi. “Try it.”
The month for new aberrations.
So I schedule painting classes for two weekend mornings, and pottery classes for the two others. I adjust my posture and arms on the wheel and the coarse canvas those mornings and hum springy Hindi songs my mother sang decades ago. January is for new things. I attend an “audio-visual exquisite immersive experience” in a claustrophobic make-shift large square box far away from my house.
In succession, I go on dates with three people I match with on a glitchy dating app. By mere coincidence, they are all named Rajan. January is for new stories. In one Rajan’s vehicle, I get an accidental hickey below my ear. To the second Rajan, I text too soon, “I don’t think this will work out.” He reacts with a thumbs-up and forgets to transfer his share of the expensive and bland dinner I paid for. The third Rajan shows promise with animated conversations and a keen listening ear. In the bedroom, he shoves and demands.
Just like December, I check for lumps every fifth day. “This January I tried smthn lit. What did u do,” captions a dainty make-up influencer under a video of her snorkeling for the first time in pristine blue waters. I load a highly rated pair of gel socks and a doctor BarbieTM to my Amazon cart. “They don’t make you as they used to,” I tell my fragile BarbieTM with soft blonde hair when she arrives the same day.
“Good start to the year,” the employer says, when I resolve something with spectacular alacrity. Their thank-yous pause before they reach my heart.
In the mirror, I look like I did in December, with an addition of about seven greying hair. BarbieTM gives me an encouraging smile from the dresser. I fling the serum bottles and beige chemicals into the bin. Under the brown blanket, my body snuggles into its chosen position. I try to recall what human warmth feels like on a winter night.
And just like that, I wake up to February.
Bidisha Satpathy is an intellectual property lawyer in the Indian film and music industry, and an avid reader. She is based in Mumbai. She has previously published her short stories with Out of Print, The Hindu, Spillwords, In The Know Traveller, Juggernaut and a few others.
Featured photo by Вениамин Курочкин (Pexels)
